“You know, being with you means having to be okay with a lot of murder,” I huff.
Kolter lets out a rough chuckle that sends him into a coughing fit. Miraculously, my car still works, so I punch the gas and speed down the road.
“You’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you there. Will they have everything to fix you?” I ask as I pull up the directions to the clubhouse.
“Call Ace—he’ll have them ready,” Kolter rasps.
“I don’t have his number!” I shout in a panic, my eyes bouncing from the road to him and back again.
“Yes you do.”
Frowning, I scroll through my contacts and find Ace almost immediately.
“You’re so creepy,” I mutter before hittingcall.
The phone rings only once before a deep voice answers.
“Naomi? Is everything okay?”
“Kolter’s been shot! Or Blade, or whatever! He won’t let me take him to the hospital or call an ambulance, so I’m coming to the club.”
Some muffled conversations occur in the background, then Ace is back.
“The doc is on his way. How bad is it?”
I look to the back of the car. Kolter’s face is growing paler by the moment and blood is still pouring from his chest.
“Bad.”
As soon as I pull up to the club, a rush of people swarm my car. The back door is ripped open, then several men grab Kolter and rush him inside. Ace stands by my door and helps me out, looking me over for injuries.
“You good?” he asks.
I nod, but I can’t speak, the adrenaline finally waning. When I burst into tears. Ace quickly pushes my head to his chest, shielding me from everyone around.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay. He’s tough as nails—you know that. He’s not going anywhere,” he says softly.
I look up at him. “You can honestly promise that?”
Ace swallows roughly and tucks me tighter into his chest. “That bastard loves you too much to leave you. He’d fight the devil himself to be with you. It’s gonna be okay.”
I let out a choked sob as I nod, hoping, pleading, praying that he’s right.
Two motorcycles pull up then, each rider leaping off before the bikes fully stop.
“What the fuck happened?” Matthew snarls and tears up the stairs, clearly not seeing Ace or me.
But Bones does. He follows Matthew for a moment before pausing and turning to us. Slowly, he stalks forward, his gaze roaming over my battered car, blood-soaked backseat and, well, the mess that I am.
“What happened?” he rumbles.
“Some men were following me. I don’t know why. Kolter came and intercepted them. He got shot.”
“Is he dead?” Bones asks stoically.
My eyes widen in outrage. “No!”
At least. I don’t think… oh my God.